The Ones Who Need a Hand
by lilabut
Summary: Bella wants to take a step forward and Leah proves that compassion is not foreign to her.


I was given the following prompt and this is the result:

_Leah and Bella as friends. Not enough of those where both girls are in character._

**

* * *

**T h e. O n e s. w h o. n e e d. a. H a n d.

This one's for the lonely  
The ones that seek and find  
Only to be let down  
Time after time

This one's for the torn down  
The experts at the fall  
Common friends get up now  
You're not alone at all

_**Comes and Goes**_, Greg Laswell

**one.**

It all began with six simple, more than frequently used letters.

"Could you give me that bowl, please?"

P – L- E – A – S – E

Bella stood dumbstruck in the tiny kitchen in Jacob's house, the toes of her bare left foot pressing into the sore skin of her right, her hair pulled over her shoulders to keep from invading her field of vision and her arms suddenly immobile in the air as the letters slowly sank in.

P – L- E – A – S – E

"Hey, Swan? Did you fall asleep?"

It was still there – the venom, the bitterness, the accusation, the grief, the anger, the grace and the dignity. To everyone else it would have sounded exactly like it always did – harsh and insulting. But Bella – not being _everyone else_ – suddenly was capable to make out a hint of humour, mocking, joy, delight and even compassion behind the rough surface.

Out of the blue. Over a bowl, on a Saturday afternoon with the entire wolf pack crammed into Jacob's living room to watch _Men in Black_.

P – L- E – A – S – E

"Ehm, yeah, sure. Here," Bella stuttered, handing Leah the empty, ancient bowl from the sink. The moment Leah took the yellowish ceramic out of her pale hands, Bella smiled slightly, merely twitching the corners of her nibbled of lips. Testing the waters.

Leah only grabbed the bowl and turned back towards the massive amounts of potato chips, filling the bowl with them until single ones dropped onto the counter, causing her to mumble various curses under her breath.

_Too early_, Bella thought to herself, eying Leah carefully from her peripheral vision.

But it _had_ been there…

P – L- E – A – S – E

**two.**

It happened slowly, subtly, like a flower gently blossoming, the process invisible for the human eye – yet the result a true mirror for beauty and perfection. Growth.

There was a smile or two, a very platonic _hello_ or a polite nod. Nothing that would have caught anyone's eye, but a change nonetheless.

One night, Bella watched Jacob sleep on the couch in her living room, her fingers absent-mindedly combing through his raven hair when her thoughts suddenly led her to a corner of her memory and mind she barely visited.

She had never really understood why Leah had welcomed her with such antipathy – apart from the fact that Leah treated mostly every living person this way. It might have been her strong bond to vampire in the past – but that was all over now, long-forgotten, another memory to fade during the years. Maybe it was the grief over her father – but it had been almost two years since Harry had died. Perhaps it was her remorse about the life she had to live – but in what way was Bella to blame for that? At one point, Bella – in her inability to understand – had even considered the fact that Leah might be jealous. She had opened up to Jacob about that suspicion and had gotten nothing but a barking laughter in return.

Laying in the gentle dark, fingers caressing Jacob's hair and skin, Bella began to wonder if maybe _she_ had not given Leah the chance she deserved. That maybe, after all, Leah had needed more sympathy and attention. A first step to be made by someone else.

Bella sighed, resting her head on Jacob's chest. She would risk it. Risk the humiliation and rejection.

One day, sooner than later, she would force Leah to let someone behind her mask. After all, Jacob had helped Bella the exact same way.

It had worked with her and, drowning deeply in her thoughts, Bella came to the blurry conclusion that she and Leah were not so different, after all. Only that Leah had already gone through what Bella feared the most.

**three.**

_Sooner_ came even earlier than Bella would have imagined.

She pulled her rusty but beloved truck in front of Jacob's house, turning off the engine and closing her eyes for a second as the smell of fuel filled her nostrils, burning there in a strangely satisfying way.

When she stumbled across the pebbles and muddy grass towards the garage – her temple, her safe place – she once again wondered _why_'s and _maybe_´s about a girl – woman – she barely knew and yet knew too much about.

Lost deeply in her thought, Bella was even more shocked and taken aback to see Leah sitting on the counter of Jacob's work bench in the otherwise empty makeshift-garage. Her long, tan legs dangled in the air, mostly bare except for the short jeans shorts, no shoes, hair spiky and much-too-masculine-looking for the woman it belonged to.

"Ehm… hey, Leah," Bella managed to stutter, her eyes shifting from the woman-she-barely-knew-and-yet-knew-too-much-about to scanning the garage for any sign of Jacob.

"He's on patrol," Leah informed her, sensing the question lingering on Bella's lips, jumping from the counter and landing gracefully on her bare feet, not moving any further. "Sam changed schedules this morning."

"Oh…okay. And –"

"What am _I_ doing here?" Leah finished Bella's question, the expression on her face neutral and not giving away any kind of emotion. "I knew you were coming, so I thought I would wait for you. I think we…need to talk."

"Okay…," Bella almost hummed – yet far from a cheering sound – and slowly walked over to the counter, leaning against it, feeling suddenly uncomfortable to look into Leah's dark eyes.

**four.**

Jacob would never forget that afternoon when he dragged himself into his garage, the only thought that kept his tired legs walking being Bella's parked truck outside and the anticipation to see her again.

What he found was beyond anything he had ever expected.

His _Bells_, crying quietly, dried tracks of tears still faintly glistening in the dim light, leaning against Leah's shoulder. They had their arms wrapped around each other and when Leah heard him enter, she gently shook her head at him, silently telling him to leave them alone.

_Gentle. _

Never had Jacob believed he would once use this word while speaking or thinking of Leah Clearwater. But there was no venom or accusation in the way she shook her head now, holding his _Bells_ in her arms, her own eyes damp and a touch redder than usual.

Confused but full of trust, Jacob retreated, shaking his head in disbelieve as he walked back to the house, all the while trying to burn the picture into his memory. That was a moment never to be forgotten.

**five.**

What Jacob knew was that Leah had soothed Bella, had given her advice, a talk, a shoulder to cry on. That Leah had opened up, had allowed herself to let someone else in. Had partially, momentarily left behind the bitter and hostile person she had become during the last years.

What Jacob found out when he and Leah were both phased on a shared patrol, was that Bella had _needed_ Leah to soothe her pain – a pain that had only been _fed_ by Leah's advice, which had _demanded_ a shoulder to cry on. That Leah opened up because Bella _needed_ to know how it felt like to be left behind because of something she had no power over. That she let Bella in because she _wanted_ to help her.

Because deep down, Leah and Bella _needed_ each other. To find hold in a new world, to find a grip on new situations and circumstances and to take the fear from slipping into that world one day.

**six.**

They never became what Jacob would consider real _girl-friends_. There were simply too many obstacles in their way. Leah never changed the way she addressed Bella only by her last name, she was still the bitter person who easily let a hurtful joke slip past her lips. But the thing which had changed was that Leah meant no intentional harm anymore. She still gave Bella a sermon from time to time – but not to hurt but to actually _help_ her.

Friendly feelings. An approach. A possible future.

Compassion.

_Don´t you dare hurt that girl, Black_, Leah thought almost menacingly one day on another shared patrol. _Don´t you dare turn her into someone like me_.


End file.
